


Negotitation and Talk of Purple Shoes

by Diary



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Bechdel Test Fail, Bottle Episode Fic, Canon Character of Color, Canon Gay Character, Canon Queer Character, Family, Gen, Hotel Room Setting, Late Night Conversations, POV Cyrus Beene, POV Male Character, POV Queer Character, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyrus talks to Tom about what'll happen after the election and reflects on Ella, James, and Michael. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotitation and Talk of Purple Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Scandal.

Trying to ignore the glance one of the hotel clerks gives him, Cyrus heads up to his suite.

 _Gay stereotype_ , will forever be etched into some part of his brain.

In retrospect, he should have told Tom to give some cover story about being his nephew or something along those lines.

He wonders if Tom even realises what this looks like, and if Tom does, if he even cares.

Probably not, he decides. Tom bought some new clothes with the card he gave him, orders room service every night, and apparently, is quite the magnet for little children when he goes down to eat the complimentary continental breakfast the hotel serves.

Given what happened to Jerry and how well Tom was able to recruit Turner, Cyrus wonders if he should be more concerned about this.

Up at the room, he knocks before letting himself in.

Tom is sitting on the bed with the TV remote nearby.

Thanking God Tom is wearing a t-shirt and pair of pyjama bottoms, Cyrus tries to ignore the bare feet and damp-darkened, somewhat spiky hair. Sitting down in a nearby chair, he says, “Let’s talk about after Vargas wins.”

Shifting so he’s looking at him, Tom nods.

“What are you aiming for?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“When Vargas is elected, you’re going to want things. I will try to get you those things, but I need time to start planning. Your record of imprisonment has already been erased. As far as the world is concerned, you resigned from your Secret Service position to pursue a career in private security. So, where do you want to go? Back to the White House? If so, are you going to want a position of more power? Money isn’t a problem. There is a limit to how far I can get you instilled, but if you’re good, you can use that to climb further on your own.”

He leans back and waits for Tom to get through thinking.

“I want my old position of C.S.S. back.”

“Coordinator of the Secret Service?”

Tom nods.

“Done,” Cyrus agrees.

“And I want to replace Charlie,” Tom continues. “Not completely. If I can’t do something, I don’t care who you bring in, but when you need a job done, I want to be the first call.”

Confused and vaguely uneasy, Cyrus says, “Not that that’s a problem, but: Why?”

Tom gives him a small smile. “I know you think that everyone wants power, but that really isn’t true, sir. I’m an orphan. For the first five years of my life, I had little in the way of attention, food, or anything else.”

“Rowan found me, and I was so grateful, I did whatever he wanted. I was his golden boy. If I wanted more than a job spying on the president, I could have gotten it. With that job, I literally risked my life. Politics, the armed forces, alphabet agencies, even the private sector, I was good enough I could have made a name for myself and cultivated influence.”  

“But I didn’t. Aside from my place in it, I don’t care about the world. As long as I’m alive and relatively comfortable, I don’t even particularly care if people pay much attention to what I think and feel. You called me a foot soldier, a yes man, and that’s true. I do want to- be useful to another person. I explained why I chose you. However high you rise, you’re always going to need someone you can trust to do certain things for you.”

“I know you don’t completely trust me, yet,” Tom finishes, “and that’s fine. Right now, you asked what I wanted, and that’s it. My old position, and being the top name on your contact list when you have a special job.”

There has to be more, Cyrus thinks.

He knows in his gut there is.

“Fine,” he agrees. “But if you do decide you want more, I need to know sooner rather than later.”

“I understand.”

“Glad we had this talk,” Cyrus continues. “Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, sir.”

He’s just about to open the door when his phone rings. Looking down, he sighs when he sees the caller ID. “Hello, Michael.”

“Hey,” Michael says. “Where are you?”

“The Grand District Hotel. Why?”

“I’m sorry about this,” Michael says. “Uh, you might want to stay there tonight. Ella’s friend, Sammy? His mother was just arrested for drunk driving, his dad’s out of town, and apparently, his nanny quit yesterday. So, Sammy’s staying over for the night. I know how you feel about this sort of thing, but he’s four years old, Cyrus. You know how hard it is for the police to find temporary foster homes for little kids in situations like this.”

“Yeah, of course,” he answers. “Drunk driving? Ella wasn’t in the car, was she?”

“No,” Michael assures him. “Sammy was, but thank God, he’s okay. He called Ella from the station.”

“Have you already picked him up?”

“Yes, and don’t worry, I had Susie stay a little later than usual so I didn’t have to take Ella. They’re both camped out on the living room couch, watching Barney and eating carrots and peanut butter.”

“Fine. No soda,” he reminds Michael. “If she tries to use, ‘This is a special occasion,’ the answer is still no.”

“I know,” Michael tells him. “She’s having grape juice, and he’s having fruit punch.”

“Let’s hope they don’t spill any on the couch,” he mutters. “Okay. Thank you for the warning. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Night, Cy.”

“Goodnight, Michael.”

Hanging up, he sighs and goes back over.

Tom gives him a curious look.

“Change of plans,” he says. “It’s either a cot or finding someplace else to sleep for you tonight. Some people should never be parents.”

Getting off the bed, Tom asks, “What happened?”

“The mother of one of Ella’s friends decided to drive drunk with her kid in the car. He’s fine, which is good. What’s not so good but I have little choice but to accept is he’s also staying at my house, for tonight, at least.”

Picking up the hotel phone, he requests a cot and wakeup call for seven.

Hanging up, he says, “I’m going to take a shower.” Tossing his wallet onto the bed, he orders, “Handle the tip.”

“Are you going to want room service?”

Heading towards the bathroom, he answers, “I’ve already eaten.”

…

In the morning, he calls Michael and tries to ignore the way it seems Tom is watching him get dressed.

“How’s everything?”

“Good,” Michael answers. “Sammy’s aunt is going to pick him up after school and take him down to live with her for a while. I’m not sure how Ella will take him being gone, but maybe during the summer, we can visit them or they can visit us. Oh, Ella wants to talk to you.”

Glaring at a tie, he tosses it aside, sits down on the bed, and says, “Okay. Give her the phone.”

“Dada?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he answers. “What did you want to talk about?”

She proceeds to launch into a detailed explanation of why she’ll be wearing her purple shoes today, and he feels a pang of sadness and longing for James.

James would have known what to say. James would have absolutely loved hearing this. James would be hearing this in their house, not over the phone while sitting in a hotel room with an assassin.

Cyrus can’t love her the way she deserves, but in his own way, he does love her.

As much as he tries to tell himself Vargas will help make the country a better, safer place for her to grow up in, a place she can be proud of when she gets older, he knows all he’s doing is for him, not her, and as much as he hopes she’s never hurt by it, he also knows he isn’t going to stop just because she might be.

When she stops talking, he says, “That’s nice. Your purple shoes are very pretty. Can you please give the phone back to Michael?”

“I’m back,” Michael says. “Since Sammy won’t be here, are you staying at home tonight?”

“Probably,” he answers. Despite Tom’s silent presence, he steels himself. “Look, Michael- Thank you. She’s lucky you came into our lives.”

“Thanks,” is the soft response. “Is everything alright?”

“Just one of those moments,” he answers. “I’ll see you later.”

“You, too,” Michael answers.

He hangs up and finds Tom has put his shoes near the bed and his socks and belt beside him.

When he gets them on, Tom comes over and picks up the tie. “I can help.”

Nodding, he says, “Thanks.”

Tom’s hands are sure, but there’s a hesitation on his face. “Could I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you love him?”

“Michael?” At Tom’s nod, Cyrus answers, “No. It’s always going to be James for me. Obviously, I had no idea this would happen, but some part of me always knew that what I was doing was wrong and I’d end up paying for it. Buying sex. Letting myself believe that it could somehow turn out to be more, even though, if it had, there would still always be the shadow of James between us. We’re both paying for it, but I came out with the better end of the deal.”

He doesn’t remember the last time Michael called him ‘Satan’, and there are times he’s struck by how much they truly resemble a real couple.

Ella won’t be little forever, and he’s not sure how much more he’s going to pay when she learns exactly how and why he and Michael got together.

Tom finishes the tie.

“Thank you, Tom. I’ll come by in a few days.”


End file.
